


thanks for the memories

by wildforwyld



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Death, M/M, Memories, One Shot, Sad, Sad Ending, based a little on the first 10 minutes of Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildforwyld/pseuds/wildforwyld
Summary: now that his soulmate is gone, the only remnants of those happy days in the sun reside in the corner of an empty room





	thanks for the memories

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i just wanted to make something sad, and if you want to feel more, listen to the soundtrack of the first scene of Up, called "Married Life"💛💛

I sighed. Brian and Roger were downstairs, probably also sighing together.

Together. I'd never be able to look at that word the same way again. It gave me too much pain. Too many memories that crept in, more, and more, all bursting so vividly with life and joy, until all of it came to the surface of reality, where I'd slowly slip into a sleepless, paralyzed state of tears and a gnawing loneliness. And my support was there no more, instead, it was the cause to this whole fucking mess that I wanted to pick out of my brain and throw away as if it were a night's worth of regret that would soon be forgotten in the next following week. But that wasn't possible. No, it was more like trying to rid a worn out sweater of cat fur. The only solution was to throw it out completely, or live with it.

I can distinctly remember Freddie's tired, everloving face, gazing back at me as I'd spend hours holding his hand, reading to him, playing for him, singing to him, even to the last moments, where Freddie lay still, lightly scratching Delilah's head. He could no longer recognize some things, and his memory had become hazy. But he smiled on, until his last, quivering breath.I remember when I had noticed his hand go still, and I threw myself over him, startling our beloved cat and wailing, sobbing like I never had before, not even when my father passed 29 years ago.

It's been 29 years since 1962, when I had come home, not knowing what was about to be revealed. Now it's been a week since Freddie...

I rose from his couch, groggily rubbing my eyes, and stumbled down the stairs of Garden Lodge. My bandmates were there. I gave them an exhausted look, implying that I would rather enjoy being left alone for the day, then retreated back into my space, deciding that I would stay there for the rest of the night.

I let the workers and housekeepers take a while off of work, so the house was completely empty after they left. Often, when Freddie and I were alone at our old shared flat, we'd screw around, make love, or do some crazy shit that would aggravate the other two the next morning. Now it's just me, in my own home that towers over head. Garden Lodge seemed unfamiliar now.

I kneeled beside the door and swallowed an antidepressant, then threw it to the other side of the room. I noticed a large crushed cardboard box to the left of me, in the corner .

Familiar black scrawl on the side of it laughed into the bare room, "Thanks for all the memories, my love!"

My eyes refused to meet the name written below. I'd start dying on the inside if I had to experience anymore grief of the past. But yet, I longed to remember what it was like back in the younger, bright, and sunny days of my twenties and thirties.

I tenderly lifted the flaps, peering inside, as if it were the last of a curious species just on the brink of extinction. The first memory hit me like a brick that I had never seen coming.

It was me, back in 1973. I was wearing lazily done makeup, and a dazed expression. I remember back when I was younger, more naive, and shy.

A small wave of nostalgia and shock electrified me. I had long hair in those years, which Freddie constantly complimented, eliciting a blush from me every single time. Back when I had first gotten in the band, sometime around 1971, I wasn't as comfortable with the band as I am now. It was the fact that I knew I was replaceable, and they could easily drop me if I wasn't good enough. It wasn't the fact that I wanted to be in a band, that motivated me, because it was originally only a hobby on the side. No, it was because I wanted to get closer with these people in the band. Eventually, I began seeing how important I was to the band, with the help of Freddie.

I removed the small photograph and set it to the side. There was a necklace draped over the stack of items. It was a gift from me to Freddie, sometime in 1974, when I had my first song on an album. I gave Freddie a silver chain with an opal pendant in thanks, since he was the only one who actually liked it. I didn't know that his birthstone was sapphire, though, and was extremely mortified when he informed me of the mistake, but he giggled and kissed me on the cheek, only perpetuating the embarrassment, no matter how much he tried to ease it.

I smiled for the first time since...you know, and placed the necklace beside me. Another picture lay to the side of the necklace. It was a picture of me and my love. We were kissing under the moon, on our second date. It was a quick decision to jump into the relationship so quickly, but it was one I would never regret. We were having a small date, with dessert, outside in Hyde park at about 9 pm. We bought a couple of lanterns to keep the place alight, but overall, it was just us and the moon. We'd decided to make it official when Freddie had accidentally blurted the question out, after I gave him a small flower. Of course, I didn't know too much about getting into a relationship, so I was so lucky that Freddie was my first. And my last.

Another photo was under the first one. He and I, snuggled in a bed. We were both sick with a cold, and since we both had it, we figured it would do no harm to be as close to each other as always. I could hear his voice, clearly ringing in my ears, lingering as if I could reach out and pull him into a hug again.

_"It won't do any harm, darling, come lie with me!"_

Then under that was a letter. I wrote it to Freddie once, after an argument like no other. He left to stay with Roger, and I couldn't stand being alone at home anymore.

** _It's hard to function here alone, Freddie. I'm so sorry for what I said. It was only because I was in a terrible mood and I was afraid that you no longer loved me. I miss you, Freddie. Please come home. I can't stand it anymore. Please come home. I'm sorry._ **

I remember the sleep paralysis every night, and the nightmares of Freddie abandoning me for another because I wasn't good enough. I could almost feel his embrace, comforting me when I was on the verge of some sort of breakdown, whispering his apologies, comforting me as I trembled quietly. If only I knew back then how terrible I am right now, with Freddie being gone forever.

Below the tiny pile of extra photographs and small treasures, there was a miniature velvet box, smiling in my direction. It once contained the ring that is now still on my finger.

I recall clearly that evening when he proposed to me. Back in 1978, when we were close to the peak of our career. We had enough money to afford to clear out The Ritz for an evening, where we dined under a beautiful chandelier, and the pale glow of the moon. When we finished the meal, he stood behind my chair, helped me up, and got down on his knee. I can almost feel his arms embracing me again, just like he did when I said yes. It was clear that we couldn't actually get married legally, but I still considered him my husband, and I always did up until a week ago. The rest of that evening was pure bliss that I don't want to remember.

I found another photo, one of Freddie sometime in the beginning of the 80s, back when he was trying to grow his mustache. I remember how happy he was when he first discovered a growing mustache, and said that he was determined to maintain it. But our relationship also began deteriorating during the 80s. He was often out with friends that I was never introduced to. Once, he came home at 3 am, drunk, high, and snogging an unfamiliar man with a mullet. They were just about to do it on _our_ couch, until I slapped him and yelled at him. It was painful, thinking that the man that I thought was my soulmate was probably screwing so many other men behind my back. He apologized again and again the next morning.

Another photograph, sometime from 1984 to 86 fell out of the box as I lifted out a copy of our _Hot Space _album. It was me and Freddie, during some concert. I was grinning, next to him, while he was decked out in a version of his outfit in the "I Want to Break Free" video. It was around that time that he was finally over his drug use and sexual activity outside of home. He decided that he couldn't torture me any longer, and he was determined to keep clean in order to live longer with me.

But then 1987 came. I held up a photo of Freddie's returned HIV test. I urged him to take it after learning that there was a new disease afoot, especially in those who had constant sex in one point of their life.

It returned positive. I vividly remember the cries of sorrow that came out of his mouth. It was unlike anything I'd heard before. I never wanted to hear it again. I hadn't known Freddie to be afraid of death. That was not the case. He was afraid of losing the life he had, with me, with the band, and everything else. I was determined to make the remainder of his life as joyful and memorable as I could.

I found a few Polaroids of us at the fair, on the carousel, the Ferris wheel, and all these sorts of games they had. Brian and Roger had come with their children and wives, but didn't stay for long. Their kids were young, and weren't old enough to enjoy much of a fun fair. Freddie and I had none. But I was fine with that. I used to dream of a large family; a pretty wife, and 5 or 6 kids. That was back before I realized who I am. I still longed for the warmth of a child in the house, but I knew that Freddie wouldn't be comfortable. He'd be scared for what the child would grow up to be, after living with us and our lifestyles. I had to agree with him. I didn't know if we were fit parents. So we decided to leave that topic alone, and not approach the idea of having an adopted kid.

I lifted up a photograph of Freddie taken not so long ago. Freddie was wearing blue pants and a pink and blue button down shirt. I had taken the picture while out in the garden, as you could see the yellow flowers framing the photo. I guess Freddie put it in here before he...

And finally, the last thing left. An old, browning envelope, with the words "For my love, John Deacon" written in the same style as on the box.

I hadn't ever seen it here since the last time I looked in it, which was about a year ago. Maybe Freddie put it in during that time. I opened the envelope carefully, and almost dropped it when I saw what was inside.

A picture of Freddie back in 1975, when we went on our first date. I was lying on his chest, sleeping, and he was smiling up at the camera, and stroking my hair. A single sheet of yellow lined paper greeted me.

** _If you're reading this, darling, It's because of 1 of the 3 options. And if you're not Deaky STOP READING!!!_ **

** _It's because you suddenly found it by accident before I am able to give it to you or we are not together anymore, in which case, stop reading please!_ **

** _We are both 50/55 years old together, and I've given it to you now._ **

** _I am dead, and you come across this before we reach 50/55 (which is probably the least likely!)_ **

** _I am making a promise to myself, to sign this every year that I still love you! Starting with 1975!_ **

And below that, was a series of signatures, all written in assorted colors, on different areas of the sheet:

** _Freddie Mercury, 1975_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1976_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1977_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1978_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1979_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1980_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1981_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1982_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1983_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1984_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1985_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1986_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1987_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1988_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1989_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1990_ **

** _Freddie Mercury, 1991_ **

** _I love you, my darling, and I always will. I know my time is going to come to an end before the year is over, so I'm concluding it right here, because I couldn't possibly write a signature for all the years that will come in the future! My hand would fall off! I will probably be gone when you see this. Remember me, and I will always be with you. (Ps. I left my favorite pillow in the box for you to remember me by.)_ **

** _Love,_ **

**** ** _Your soulmate._ **

There was a certain salty taste in my mouth. I was crying again. Hiccups and sniffles echoed throughout the cold, empty room. All I had now was his memory, and his pillow. I love him so much.

I squeezed the pillow and hugged it close. It still smelled of Freddie, back when he was still here, next to me. I tiredly closed the door to our old room, and made my way downstairs, where I slept in a guest room. I snuggled into the warm bed, hugging the pillow, as if it could make up for the loneliness I would feel for the rest of my life, now that my love is dead and I am alone again. Yet he still exists in my memory, and I could never forget him. He was my life, and now, he is my reason to keep moving. I know he is there somewhere, maybe watching me live life, maybe resting in heaven, awaiting the day when I can join him. 


End file.
